


help me hold on to you

by softambrollins



Series: our own private universe [2]
Category: Professional Wrestling
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 22:37:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20415448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softambrollins/pseuds/softambrollins
Summary: A moment or two after Dean stops talking, he just takes a breath. And he says, "Oh," soft, like an exhale. And then, "No," a sound of surprise almost, like he doesn't actually believe it. And then, slightly helpless, "Not again."And he can'tdothis. Dean can't bear it. It's why he couldn't fucking talk to him, to anyone, the last time. It just makes it too real, too much. He can't fucking put this on anyone else. He's already hurt too many people he cared about. Let down too many people who believed in him, against all odds. Leaving Seth behind was hard enough. This is his burden to carry.





	help me hold on to you

**Author's Note:**

> This is just more fanfiction as therapy, completely for myself, to deal with all of this. Wishing Jon the very best and hope his recovery goes as quickly and smoothly as possible. 💙

He's been sitting around in silence and just staring into space a lot in the last couple days. Just wondering how the fuck he got here. After everything. Maybe he's fucking cursed. He used to think that a lot when he was a kid. And then things got better, better than he'd ever imagined, and he got a family he never expected to have. And then things got bad again, as it was wont to do, and he almost lost it all, almost lost _himself_… And he started wondering that again. Maybe he was cursed. Maybe they all were. Maybe everyone and everything touched by his cruel love was meant to wither and die. But they pulled him back from the edge, from falling into an endless pit of self-loathing and isolation and darkness. But he still couldn't stay. He couldn't be what he needed to be with them. It's pretty ironic that in the end, to keep his family, he had to leave. 

But now it feels like maybe it was all for nothing. Maybe he's just been putting off this shadowy doom that's been following him around all his life, that just keeps creeping back up on him time and time again. Every time he's close to happy, close to fulfilled and okay with himself, it always seems to get stolen away again. Right out of his grasp.

Seth's so, so quiet on the phone when he tells him after he's seen the doctors. It's unnerving, eerie. He's never this fucking quiet. Never for this long.

A moment or two after Dean stops talking, he just takes a breath. And he says, "_Oh_," soft, like an exhale. And then, "_No_," a sound of surprise almost, like he doesn't actually believe it. And then, slightly helpless, "Not again."

And he can't _do_ this. Dean can't bear it. It's why he couldn't fucking talk to him, to anyone, the last time. It just makes it too real, too much. He can't fucking put this on anyone else. He's already hurt too many people he cared about. Let down too many people who believed in him, against all odds. Leaving Seth behind was hard enough. This is his burden to carry.

It feels like he's been holding on by a thread the last couple hours, the last couple _days_ since he's been back — knowing something was wrong in his _bones_ but just trying so hard to ignore it, to push it to the back of his mind because it _could not be happening_ — and it's just been pulled tighter and tighter by the minute and he's ready to _snap_. Just hearing Seth’s voice is gonna break him, he knows. And he can't afford that. Not now. Not after everything he's been through, everything he gave up to finally be here. He _knows_, he knows now that Seth and Roman are his strength and always have been, but god, when he's at his lowest, at his weakest, it's hard not to look at them and feel even _weaker_.

"I'm gonna be fine," he tells him, keeping his voice steady and even, reassuring but casual at the same time. "It'll be fine. After the surgery, it'll be fucking gone forever and that'll be it." 

"_Wait_," Seth says, like he's only just absorbed everything he's said, how urgent it is, sounding a bit startled by how measured his words are. "Just give me a day or two. I'll be there as quick as I can." 

"No, you don't have to—" Dean protests immediately. 

"No, fuck that," Seth tells him, and his voice is full and firm now. "You don't get to argue. You're not going through this alone. Not again. I won't let you."

Somehow he's made it through this whole day without doing more than just biting down on his knuckles to muffle his screams of frustration and randomly yelling strings of expletives at the walls in his empty house, but fuck, Seth's gonna burst open the dam inside of him. And maybe that won't actually be the worst thing in the world.

Dean lets out a heavy sigh. He closes his eyes, rubbing the heel of his palm into them forcefully until his vision gets spotty. He feels so, so tired all of a sudden. Too tired to argue. "Okay," he breathes out, almost in relief. 

*

Seth comes in the kitchen door and just stares at him across the room. And it's hard to look him in the eyes, knowing that his own are betraying everything, that Seth just has to take one glance at him to know exactly what he's been feeling. The pain and the disappointment and the helplessness. And just the pure, utter frustration and heartbreak of wanting something so, so bad and your body just giving out on you. Letting yourself down. Letting everyone down. 

Dean finally flicks his eyes up from the floor to meet Seth's. They're like bottomless pools, warm and deep and wide, and he feels like he could easily get lost in them and maybe it would be so much better than his current reality.

"I'm so sorry, babe," Seth tells him, his voice cracking a little, and he looks like he wants to cry and Dean fucking _hates_ it and it makes him want to just fucking break something. He's already been pretty close to the brink. 

"I'm okay," Dean says, nodding at him, because he just doesn't want him to look like _that_ anymore. Not because of him.

Seth just gives him a sad smile, head tilting to the side, watching him carefully, before he comes closer, reaching out to gently take his hand, lacing their fingers together. Dean just stares down at their interlinking hands instead of at Seth, the warmth of his touch, the soft skin of his palm against his own the only real point of focus it feels like he's had in a long time.

"It's okay if you're not," Seth promises him. And somehow that's exactly what he needed to hear.

He finally lets himself look at him for real, eyes unblinking, lips parted slightly as he swallows hard. He takes a few shallow breaths, eyes going wide, throat tightening. Dean's head slowly falls forward after a few moments, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, covering his face with one hand. He lets out a cut-off gasp that's almost a sob. It feels like it's been trapped inside of him for days, maybe years.

And Seth just wordlessly wraps his arms around him and holds him close, cradling his head against his chest, presses a kiss to the top of his head. Tells him, "It's okay, I got you." They stay there until he slowly forgets where he is, forgets about all the walls and armour he's built around himself and his heart over the years, forgets about having to be strong all the time just to survive, forgets about how angry he's been at himself, forgets about all the people he's let down over his entire life — until he realises that maybe it's _not_ okay right now, but it will be.

He's safe here. He'll always be safe here. Seth's here to be strong for him when he can't be.

*

They eventually end up upstairs in his bedroom, Seth pressed up close behind him on the bed, his arm gently draped over Dean's waist, his face tucked into his shoulder.

"You been sleeping at all?" Seth asks quietly after what feels like hours.

"Not really," Dean admits. "Maybe it's just the whole timezone fuckery. My body's probably not used to it yet."

They both know it's not just that, though. He's spent so many nights awake and just staring up at the ceiling, his mind racing with anxious thoughts, about the surgery, the best case scenario, the worst case, what his comeback would be like, how long it'll take to feel like himself again, where it went wrong in the first place, if he could've prevented this, if he was just being fucking stubborn and dumb. All of it completely fucking pointless. 

"Maybe you should…" Seth starts carefully.

"You gonna tell me to take it easy? To slow down and stop putting my body through so much crap?" Dean asks dryly.

"No, I'd _never_ tell you that. I know that's just who you are," Seth says evenly. "That's what you love. That's why you left. And nothing's guaranteed, you know? You've never been one to think about tomorrow."

"And that's always annoyed the shit out of you, right?" Dean says, and it's hard not to feel nostalgic for the old days.

"No," Seth says, pressing his mouth even closer against his skin. "That's why I love you." He says it like it's just a truth of the world, unchanging, absolute, and it kind of makes his heart ache.

"I don't know," Dean says pensively after a moment. "Maybe he's right. Maybe I just wanted _everything_ too much. All at once."

Seth scoffs loudly. "Oh, that's bullshit and you know it. He's not right about _anything_. It could've happened anytime. Anyplace. It's not your fault. It's just terrible fucking luck. That's just how the universe is sometimes."

Dean knows that better than anyone. The universe has been trying to screw him over since day one. But he's _always_ picked himself up, mostly just as a _fuck you_ to the powers that be. Sometimes proving people wrong just because you can is the only thing that keeps you going. Only sometimes that can turn around and bite you in the ass.

"But he's not the only one who thinks it's my fault. That I'm letting people down."

"That's what people do. Bitch and moan on the internet. Fuck them," Seth says dismissively. Then, after a beat, "Want me to beat him up for you?"

Dean actually laughs at that, the first time in what feels like months. "Jesus Christ, imagine the headlines. 'Seth Rollins curb stomps Kenny Omega in Denny's parking lot, turns ratings war into real war.'"

"Nah, more like 'Seth Rollins rightfully defends his man from a huge fucking douchebag.'"

"Wait, I'm your _man_ now?" Dean says incredulously, turning around to look at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Hell fucking yeah. And no one messes with my man," Seth says intently, lightly grazing his fingers over Dean's cheek.

"Know what? That doesn't sound bad at all. As long as I get front row seats to this back alley brawl," Dean says, gazing across at him with a relaxed, content smile on his face.

"I know how much you wanted this," Seth tells him earnestly, his eyes fixed on Dean's. "Wanted everything. To do all the things you dreamed of. To prove yourself to everyone. But you don't owe them _anything_. You just owe it to yourself. To be happy and healthy and to do whatever the hell you want with your life."

Dean just nods at him for a second in acknowledgement before he says, voice slightly hesitant, "_You_ don't owe me anything either, you know. You didn't have to come."

"I love you," Seth tells him simply. "I'm always gonna be here for you. I won't ever leave you alone. Not again."

Dean reaches out and takes Seth's hand in his own, presses his knuckles to his mouth gently.

"Thank you," he murmurs softly. "I'm not good at..._this_. Letting other people take care of me or whatever. I never have been. But I'm glad you're here."

Seth just looks at him fondly, squeezes Dean's hand where it's still tangled up with his own.

"I know what it's like," Seth says after a pause. "To have something to prove all the time. To want to do everything you can _right now_. Before it all just...fades away."

He's right. Nothing's guaranteed, for either of them. It can all just be gone in a second. They both know that too well. They've both come way too close in the past. And now here he is, staring right down that barrel again. It scares the shit out of him to think about it, because this is the one thing in his entire life that's always felt good and _right_. That belonged to him. That made him feel like maybe he _wasn't_ fucking cursed. That he had a real purpose, a reason for being here that was greater than himself.

But he's come to realise that now, it's not the only thing.

"It'll be gone one day," Dean admits. "But it'll be okay. Because I'll have you."

Seth gives him a small smile in response and then leans over to brush a soft kiss over his lips, and for the first time, it feels like everything's gonna turn out exactly how it's supposed to.


End file.
